


A Work of Art

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Multi, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-20
Updated: 2010-04-21
Packaged: 2018-09-30 09:56:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10160648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: Ron is an artists who finds the perfect model to pose for him





	1. chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

Ron glared at the canvas, mocking him for leaving it stark, when it should carry a story upon it. For three weeks Ron had this canvas sitting on an easel in his studio. 4 feet by 3 feet, it stood in the place of honor, before a platform, yet Ron was struggling. 

Ron’s art over the years had ranged from fierce warrior types to fantasy creatures and fables. He enjoyed painting nature as well and has several images of battle scenes from history. His favorite series by far was his Arthurian legends, each knight in his own scene. It was this series that made his name known in the art world. 

Ron had been commissioned for several pieces after that. He had painted the Malfoy’s alone and as a family. It brought a good amount of exposure to his talent as the portraits graced the parlor of Malfoy manor and every one who was well known in the wizarding world had seen them. 

Contrary to the world he was a part of, Ron worked in muggle supplies, so his portraits didn’t move. He liked the idea of capturing single moment in time, leaving the viewer to interpret what came before or after the image they saw. Frozen in time, he felt his art gave more fantasy and imagination then the magical portraits that moved, and spoke. 

Looking for inspiration for something new, he traveled with Hermione among the muggle world and heard about a belief called the Seven Deadly Sins. Seven emotions that would damn the soul. Ron didn’t view it that way, however he was intrigued. The seven emotions listed, to him were parts of the human experience and just like temptations in life, had to be mastered and not rejected. Indulgence in some things made life worth living they made us human. So he set out to create seven portraits of the sins in his own mindset. 

He had focused on fierce men during the Arthurian knight series, so he decided when it came the sins collection, he would use women. Sexy, strong women. Ron had only used one women before. Guinevere was painted from a models girlfriend, and draped in costumed robes. But Ron loved women with strength inside and out. Most had a feeling that his Gryffindor house traits reigned his selection and as a result chose subjects of bravery and courage rather then timidity or insecurity. 

It was a close assumption. Ron admired a woman who had her own mind, who didn’t bow to anyone and who wasn’t walked on. His own mother was strong, Hermione was strong, Ginny was strong, everyone who stood with Harry had been strong. Even his head of house didn’t back down. So when it came to this series, the women he chose wouldn’t be half starved models who always offered to pose for him. They seemed to think that muscles and fat didn’t belong on a woman and Ron always thought otherwise. 

Women, Ron felt, should have curves and shape, whether it be through fitness of a healthy appetite. No sticks would ever be shown in his spotlights.

He set his first piece on wrath. For this he approached Hermione Granger herself. While she wasn’t an angry person by nature he had seen her flaring nostrils during his youth whenever he or Harry got out of hand. And that was a lot. He clothed her in black leather trousers and pointed toe boots. A black dress shirt opened halfway down her chest revealed a satin bra in bright red. A black cloak flowed behind her along with hair styled in a riot of long curls. He covered the platform and it’s mock background with black silks and gave her dark makeup. The dark smoky eyes when she glared was intense and gave just the look he wanted. 

Her fierce stance on the platform as she glared at him was the view he’d had in his mind the whole time. Hermione, in a way that no one had ever seen her was something that Ron was praised for. The portrait was a success and those in and out of the art world couldn’t wait to see the next piece. 

For sloth, Ron used Luna Lovegood. She was far from slothful, but he used her for her passive face. While she always seemed to be on the edge of a smile, she had only to drop her expression and her stoic face could be interpreted any way. It was hard to know what Luna was thinking most of the time and he liked that. 

He covered the platform this time in simple cotton clothes of varying shades of cream and off white. Using a plain beige gown, she reclined on a fainting chair and let her legs fall in a lazy manner. He let her hair fall without any product and kept her face devoid of make up. To him she looked more lazy then slothful, so he added some gel to make it look as if her hair hadn’t been washed, and some powder to pale down her face some more. He also removed the polish from her nails and toes. He added an abandoned pair of sandals on the floor and a torn cloak draped over the back of the chair. 

Her face was still lovely and she looked as careless as he wanted her. While not being seen in the best light, Luna wanted only to give the image that Ron wanted. When she saw the finished product she was impressed. Once again Ron had done wonders and the public loved it.

The news that Ron was painting another series was well known by now and the story of the seven deadly sins was told by anyone who knew it. The wizarding world was fascinated. His first two paintings were given top billing in art journals and displayed in Ron’s art gallery in a prominent place of honor. Five blank sections drew attention and wonder at how they would be filled. 

Ron was able to turn to his next piece. Gluttony. For this one Ron turned to Millicent Bulstrode. She wasn’t heavy but she did have a large frame. She was tall and built like her brothers with broad shoulders but a curvy figure. Over the years she had taken on a feminine look and wasn’t the butch type she used to be. To Ron this was perfect. 

He covered the platform in pink jacquard and rose tapestries. A table set low to the floor was covered in pastel French sweets. He added several tiered dishes covered in confections of all kinds. He put Millicent in a tight pink dress with spaghetti straps that stopped at the knee. He gave her ankle boots in the same shade of pink and had her hair swept into a elegant French twist, with curled strands handing on each side. He gave her full makeup, in a glamour style that was new to her. As she reclined on the platform he posed her with her lips wrapped around a treat, her eyes closed in delight at the sweetness. 

Ron could not believe the reaction the portrait got. Millicent had never been more pleased. She had always been seen as the tough girl, but Ron had transformed her overnight into a sexpot and she was grateful. While she worked in the department that regulated international Quidditch at the ministry, she was given an image that she had always wanted. Men began to see her as the woman she was. Her life was looking up.

Pride was one that Ron had imagined from the moment he heard of the sins. He went to his sister. Ginny had the most pride he had ever seen in anyone. He had grown up with the same mocking about their humble life, but she took it with her head held high. Cho Chang flaunted Harry’s attraction to her daily but Ginny let it roll off her. People criticized her for her choice of becoming an auror, but she loved her job. With her marriage to Harry she had never felt more delighted in her life. 

He covered the platform and its backing in red carpet style fabric mixed with gold. Placing trophies, awards and a broomstick around her, Ginny stood with her feet braced in her aurors robes, with her wand in her hand and the other on her hip. She looked forward and stood tall. He allowed her to do her own hair and make up and as normal she wore very little. 

Ron set a light fan in motion in front of her, hidden by the easel so it looked as if she would even face nature head on. He liked seeing her like this. She was his sister and while she was proud herself, he was proud of her. That was his reason for using her for this particular emotion. 

The art world picked up on it and commented on his praise of his own family and the strong way in which he portrayed her. Ginny though, as he thought, was unaffected by the attention that came from the painting. She had posed for him because he asked and for no other reason. Life went on for her as usual as Ron tuned his attention to his next piece. 

For envy, Ron asked Lavender Brown, a professional model to pose for him. She worked like a professional too. He told her the project and she let him dress and arrange her in any manor he wanted. He covered the platform this time with varying shades of green and clothed her in an emerald evening gown. It was strapless and flowed out in layers of fabric to the floor. He suspended a long drape from above and had Lavender stand beside it, easing it to the side gently, as if spying on someone. She held her sneer perfectly. 

Ron had to hand it to her. He wanted envy and he got it. Lavender was the consummate professional and she new her art. She did everything he asked her and didn’t complain once. She showcased his talent well. 

For greed, Ron went to Parvati Patil. When he saw her and her sister at the Yule Ball fourth year, his fairly new artist’s eye was drawn to the gold in their clothes. She had no problems posing for him. 

The platform this time was decorated in gold silks and transparent scarves, sewn with bangles and jewels. Parvati wore one of her native Indian saris in gold and over accessorized in bracelets and chains. Through her nose was a large diamond stud. She lay on her stomach with her bare feet, decorated in gold ankletsand dark red henna, up in the air. Ron surrounded her with piles of fake galleons and added a few gold goblets, and statues. She was rested her weight on her elbows and crossed her arms looking at Ron with a smirk on her face. 

This was by far the most detailed of the portraits so far and the art community raved about it. The finest detail was not ignored and Ron worked hard on it. With so many stacks of galleons to paint it took the longest and the long wait made everyone appreciate the finished portrait all the more. 

Ron glared at the blank canvas and wanted to put his foot through it. He had one more sin. Lust. He was having a hard time finding a model. None of the girls he looked at and posed seemed right. For this last portrait Ron wanted a model who instigated lust in him. None of them did. 

Frustrated, he left the canvas and the studio, grabbing his cloak. He went to Diagon Alley, and walked among the crowds. Being outside calmed him. He settled himself at an outside table of a small café, tea in hand, taking leisurely sips.

His gaze fell on the bench outside Flourish and Blotts. There sitting and looking off into nothingness, was Pansy Parkinson. She was holding her body in relaxation, her legs crossed and her head slightly tilted. Ron couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her face was so serene, but as her thoughts turned, she smirked slightly. Ron felt his cock harden. LUST! This was it. 

He jumped out of his seat was walked over to her. “Pansy.” She came out of her daydream and looked at him. 

“Ron, how are you?” She asked with a smile. 

“Do you have a moment to talk?”


	2. Chapter 2

  
Author's notes: the beginning process  


* * *

Pansy arrived at Ron’s gallery at the time he gave her. His art was displayed along the walls. Full paintings to coal sketches, and sculptures. Ron truly was an artist. He specialized in both animal and human form. 

“Over here.” She looked up and saw him at the top of a staircase. The magical barrier at the foot slid aside and let her ascend the stairs. Ron was watching her and her eyes widened as she approached him. He was wearing jeans, with paint splatters and no shoes. He had on a worn black t shirt with more paint stains then the jeans. She could easily see the muscles in his arms and the shape of his body under the thin cotton t shirt. 

She watched his ass move under his jeans as she walked behind him through an open door. She looked around at the room where Ron brought feelings, emotions and fantasies to life. It was devoid of anything on the walls, no pictures, no paint, nothing but plain white walls. There was scattered chairs in several styles, and a screen set up with some clothes draped over it. A large trunk and dresser were next to the screen, and it looked like a gypsy had lost her trunk. Spare clothe and fabrics were scattered about. 

One wall was dominated by a miniature stage of some sort and a background wall. It had a step that rose it up higher, holding its subject to view. She knew instantly Ron would be posing her on this focal point. Not more then 6 feet away an easel stood holding a canvas. Scattered around the floor and on a table beside the easel were what looked like dozens of small paint cans, brushes and what looked like knives and sticks. 

Ron closed the door. “You can drop your cloak and bag over there.” He told her, gesturing to one of the many chairs. She dropped them and walked over to him. He was digging in one of the trunks until he found what he wanted. 

It was a slip of some kind, almost an undergarment. With a wave of his wand, Ron changed it from blue to a deep red. “Here,” he said handing it to her, “you can change behind the screen.” 

She emerged a few moments later in the slip, it stopped just past her ass and was held up but two straps at her shoulders. Her breasts were covered in lace, but it was only partial coverage. 

“What emotion am I?” She asked. Her eyes were open as she looked at the once plain white and lifeless stage. It was covered with a soft duvet and draped from behind in scarlet curtains. It looked like a miniature bedroom, with it’s shiny pillows scattered about in various sizes. 

“Do you know about the series I’m painting?” He asked turning around and holding out a hand. She took his hand and led her to the platform. 

“I know you have painted six so far and there is one more, beyond that nothing.” She sat patiently as he assessed her face and hair. 

“Well there are seven total, it’s a religious belief among muggles.” He took out his wand and using magic removed any dust or flakes from the outside from her hair. “It’s called the seven deadly sins.” A fine mist came from his wand, giving her hair a slight shine. “They are seven emotions that people should avoid in life because they can mean the damnation of your soul.” He ran his fingers through her hair and Pansy closed her eyes at the feel. It didn’t go unnoticed by Ron. 

“What’s the last emotion?” She asked opening her eyes. Ron was close enough to smell. His cologne invaded her senses, and she watched his eyes meet hers. 

“Lust.” He whispered. Pansy felt his voice to her toes. She swallowed and shifted her eyes for a moment. When she looked back he was still watching her. She stayed still as he looked at her. 

Over the next hour Ron moved Pansy from position to position, making rough sketches in coal. She stayed still, he didn’t ask her for anything other then to move her body a certain way. That’s all. She lifted her foot, reclined, looked this way and that, twisted turned and shifted as he asked. 

“You can put your clothes back on.” He told her taking his sketches and moving to the easel. 

“Is that all?” She asked, moving to the screen to put her clothes back on. 

“No,” he called to her as she changed, “I’ll explain the process to you when your dressed.” 

Fully dressed she came out and saw that he had laid out all the drawings on a small table. She came up and stood beside him. They were rough sketches of her pose, but most of them had no head, no toes or hands, just how her body was placed. Two of them were more detailed. “I think these two poses are the best, I may use one of them.” Pansy looked at the two that had hands and feet but a faceless head. 

In one she was on her stomach, cradling a pillow to her chest, the other she was sitting up, her ankles crossed up near her ass. She nodded. “How many times do I come here?” She asked. 

“About four or five times, a few hours at a time. Can you hold those positions for hours on end?” 

“Yes I can.” She assured him. 

“Good, this is the first step, sketches and choosing a position and setting. I think this works though.” He said gesturing to the platform. 

“Well red works with lust.” She agreed. 

“It also works with you.” She looked at him confused. “The dark red against pale white skin and black hair, the color combination with you is perfect.” She hadn’t thought about that. He smiled at her realization. “The next time you come here with be to finalize the position I want and decide on details as well as how you will look.” 

She nodded. “I don’t know how I can be lustful though, I’m not sure I’ve really felt that way.” She admitted. 

He thought she might, but he smiled. “I’ll help you with that, I now what I want to see, I’ll coach you through it. The painting itself will take about ten days after that. Once that’s done, I finish minor details on my own. I set it with a spell to dry and then when I’m satisfied, we will have an unveiling. It will be big one since this is the last painting and to be honest, the most taboo of all the sins.”

She nodded. “Are you sure you want to use me Ron? I hardly feel lustful.” She looked back up to see him staring at her. 

“Trust me Pansy, I can’t use anyone but you for this painting.” He said softly. She felt a shiver run up her spine. 

“Well, you’re the artist.” She said. She tried to hide her nervousness, but failed miserably. 

“Let me show you something.” She followed him back down the stairs and to one of the sections in his gallery. He stopped at the first painting along a wall. “This is the first painting in the series.” 

“It’s Hermione.” She gasped, shocked at the hostility of the girl in front of her. 

“Wrath.” He said. Pansy could see it. 

“Why make your best friend so angry though.” She asked. 

He gave her a strange look. “Do you know how many times me and Harry have seen that look in our lives?” Pansy let out a laugh. they moved to the next painting. “Sloth.”

“Wow, Ron you managed to make her look depressed and pretty as the same time.” She truly was impressed. 

“That’s why I used Luna. Her face is so peaceful, that all she had to do was drop the smile and she was still lovely. Most girls will think that sloth would be a form of anger or despair so they make faces that they think is appropriate. Sloth is more self neglect then depression so a more careless expression is called for.” They moved to the next painting.

“OH MY GODS, MILLICENT!” Pansy was shocked, Millicent had been her housemate and just as tough as Crabbe and Goyle. “Ron I’ve never seen her so sexy. This is amazing.” 

“This is gluttony.” He said simply. 

“Well I can see it that. My gods, those sweets, this painting makes me hungry.” Ron smiled. “Oh to be surrounded by….wait…..are those French treacle tarts? Oh Ron who supplied for this?”

Ron had to laugh. “I’ll get you some.” 

“I’ll hold you to that.” She nodded and they moved to the next frame. “Your sister. Look at her. She was always a brave one. Is bravery an emotion to be avoided?” 

“It’s not bravery, although I can see how it would look that way but then again, you know her personally. This is pride. I’ve heard two different versions of this story. They differed with this emotion, some stories using pride, others using vanity. I chose pride for my series. And I couldn’t think of anyone with more pride then Ginny.” 

She nodded. “And your proud of her no doubt.” He smiled.

“That’s what the art critiques say.” They moved to the next portrait. 

“Wow, Lavender looks amazing. Jealousy?”

“Close, envy.” She nodded. “And this one,” he said moving to Parvati’s portrait, “is greed.” 

“Wow, Ron this must have taken a long time.” She looked closely at the stacks of galleons. They were neat piles they were all uneven in random patterns. 

“It did, there’s a lot of detail in this one, I wanted to make sure it had everything I wanted it to have.” Pansy was awestruck. Even the ankle had its bells painted in great detail. Nothing was simplified. 

Pansy looked up and saw the empty space. “I will go here?”

He nodded. “Pansy I chose the models I did for a reason.” She faced him, listening. “When Hermione gets angry, her glare takes over her whole body, she doesn’t just look at you, she stands a certain way and uses everything to show it. Luna I already explained. Millicent I used because of her frame, but I wanted her to be sexy and I knew she had it in her, for a girl who wears dark colors I knew pink would look perfect on her, it gave her confidence. She is a lovely woman and I wanted gluttony to look lovely, and not shameful. She did that.”

“And she did look wonderful.” Pansy agreed. 

“Ginny I used more for my pride in her, Lavender and I used to date and she once admitted to me that she was often jealous of other girls who could look good with no charms or make up, she knew what envy was, she’d felt it. When I thought of greed, the first thing that came into my mind was jewels and money. I couldn’t help but think of Parvati and her sister with their jewels and saris. It was glamorous and gorgeous and just what I wanted.” 

She nodded, all of these women looked fabulous. “But why me? I don’t understand. We’ve never had a history aside from school. That’s hardly lustful.” 

“When I approached you at Diagon Alley, I had already been watching you for a few moments. You were lost in thought, in some daydream and your face was hypnotic. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I don’t know what you were thinking, but you smirked and that sexy smile went right through me.” 

She blushed, and looked away, but Ron stepped forward and took her shoulders. “I wanted you then, do you understand? You inspired lust in me, Pansy, that’s why I need to use you for this final painting.” She was too shocked to say anything. 

“You are a beautiful woman Pansy and I want nothing more then to capture your beauty for all time. You inspire me Pansy, that’s why I need to paint you. No one else can inspire me this way, no one else can pose for this last painting. Only you can.”

She stared at him breathless. She had never inspired anyone before and Ron’s was a brilliant artist. Could she really be his vision? Could she deliver what he needed to finish his work?

“Will you still pose for me?” He asked her anxiously. He didn’t want her to pose if she was uncomfortable with him after his admission. 

“Yes Ron, I will pose for you.” She turned to the door and opened it then called over her shoulder. “Tomorrow?”

“Yes, tomorrow.” He answered then watched her walk out the door.


	3. chapter 3

  
Author's notes: a proposal  


* * *

Pansy showed up the next day, still on edge. Ron’s words had stayed with her all night. She was so heated that she needed to masturbate in order to sleep. But that had made things worse. She had erotic dreams of Ron ravishing her in sweaty heated copulation on the platform as she posed. 

Did she really inspire lust with just an expression? An expression she hadn’t be aware of giving. She had been thinking of her failed relationship. Marcus Flint contacted her after she left Hogwarts and they began dating. Over the course of their seven month courtship, Marcus became more and more demanding. He had a thing for ladies with dark hair and is soon became evident that he wanted her to behave in a certain way. It was obvious that he was turning her into his ideal woman and not seeing her for the woman she was. 

The smile came when she recalled their last sexual encounter. She and Marcus had fought and when she gave in for sex, she did nothing of what she knew he wanted. Marcus liked a woman who made noise and was always telling her to moan louder, groan louder, make slurping noises when she sucked his cock and let out every noise she could. She faked it most of the time but he didn’t care. He also liked it when she gripped the blanket, scratched his back, kicked with her legs, and went crazy. She faked this as well but he didn’t care. 

But on their last night, things went differently. They had fought about an upcoming party. Marcus wanted her to wear the dress he had bought her. She had realized that everything she wore in his company was chosen by him. She was looking good for him, so he had something attractive in his arm to show off. This day she refused. It was a party for one of her friends, not his and she would wear what she liked. The fight was never settled and when they had sex that night Pansy laid there devoid of emotion. 

When he entered her she let her legs fall to the side and began examining her nails. He thrust a few times and tried to get her involved, asking her question which she just answered with a stoic yes or no. It was only a matter of moments before he lost his erection. That was what brought the smile to her face. 

She laughed at him, then dressed and left his flat. she didn’t see him again. That was a month ago. When the relationship ended she knew then that he hadn’t made that big of an impact on her life. She wasn’t sad, she wasn’t hurt, she was humored. To think that she only turned him on when she was ‘acting’ was ludicrous. She was much better off without him if he wasn’t even attracted to the real her. 

Then Ron came along and offered her a chance to be immortalized. She brought out lust in him. She didn’t know how, but he told her she did. She had tried and tried to bring it out in Marcus, but it would only happen when he had thing his way. She was just sitting there and Ron felt something. He felt something just from the expression on her face. No daft outfits, no ridiculous lines, no silly role-playing. Just her smile, a vengeful grin and he had lusted after her. Maybe it was his artist’s eye. That ability to see beauty where most people miss it. Did he see that beauty in her? Was she displaying it when she didn’t know she was? 

Regardless of her feelings, if he felt something, she would pose. Ron’s art wasn’t sleazy, is was erotic and sexy. The women he chose had an inner beauty that he captured in his paints, and Pansy was excited about being the final and most physical of the series. She had no doubt at all in Ron’s talents. 

He was standing at the top of the stairs. In his jeans and t shirt, paint splattered and worn in, watching her climb the steps. She followed him into the room and went immediate to change into the slip. She took her customary place on the platform and waited.

She stood waiting for instructions but Ron only looked at her. His eyes moved up and down her body. Then he looked back up and her. “Sit.” He said softly. She sat on the platform, cushioned this time to make it easier on her. “Slid your feet up and stretch them out.” She extended her legs out flat. Ron climbed up and sat on his haunches. He reached out and took her ankle sliding it closer. 

Pansy felt his touch throughout her body. He had raised her other knee but kept it slightly lower then the first, staggering the look. “Lean forward a little.” She obeyed until he told her to stop. “Now pull your arms up like your cradling something to your breasts.” 

His voice was so seductive when the artist took over. His word flowed over her body like warm water. He was forming the image he wanted in his head. Putting her in the pose that made him feel lustful. She lifted her arms, imaging holding a kitten to her chest. “Bring your shoulders forward more, just your shoulders.” 

She arched them inward. Then he reached out and slid the straps off her shoulders. They feel down naturally, her hands at her chest holding the gown up. “Tilt your head to the side a little.” She let her head drop until he said stop, then he reached out and drew her hair behind her ear letting a few locks fall across her cheek. He ran he hand through the other side, mussing them a little. 

“Lick your lips.” She darted her tongue out to moisten her slightly dry lips. Ron’s eyes were focused as she complied yet again. “Bite down on them gently.” She was confused but understood why when she did as he asked. It made her lips look slightly swollen, as if she’d just been kissed. 

Ron breathed in and out with effort as he looked at the image. He seemed to be taking in the whole effect. He took several steps backwards and halted focusing on her for nearly five full minutes. She wondered what his mind was taking in. Did he find her lacking in something? Was he going to make a change?

Without warning Ron moved behind the easel and stood behind it. Pansy kept her position as Ron moved, glancing at her then the canvas, then her then the canvas. She couldn’t see what he was doing, but he moved quickly, his hands flying as his look went from her to the canvas. 

“You can get dressed.” He told her, pulling a drape over the canvas. Pansy moved and a cramp shot through her lower back. She groaned and sat back down again reaching for the small of her back. “Lay on your stomach.” She looked up and saw Ron standing at the platform. How did he get there so fast? He was holding a bottle in his hand. 

“What’s that?” She asked, turning face down. 

“Oil. It will help with the tension. Your body isn’t used to holding positions for that long.” He eased the straps off her shoulders and tugged the slip down to her hips. 

“I thought I would be able to. How long was I posing?” She asked. She had no idea how long she was there, she let her thoughts take her away. 

“Two hours.” He answered, working the oil into her back. Pansy let out a groan as she felt her back heat up and her muscles relax. Ron’s hands slid up and down her back, massaging the stiffness away. His hands felt wonderful. Pansy had never been treated to this before and she closed her eyes on delight. 

“Does that feel better?” He asked, leaning down to whisper in her ear. It felt more like a caress along her body. 

“It feels wonderful.’ She said. She felt his hands under her arms and she was lifted to her feet. She turned and faced him and saw his eyes drop. Then she realized that he had dropped the slip and she was bare-chested. She should cover up but she didn’t. She was frozen. Ron’s eyes on her felt different. He was admiring her like only an artist can.

Ron lifted the straps back to her shoulders with his index fingers, then gripped her arms. “You’re beautiful.” He whispered. Pansy felt her body react immediately. She knew her hands were shaking. She knew her lip was trembling, and she couldn’t control the buckle of her knees. “Go and change.” He said, lifting her hand and kissing her knuckles. 

Pansy went behind the curtain and let out a breathe. She had be called beautiful before but men usually wanted something when they complimented her. Ron was simply appreciating her form. 

When she came out form behind the screen, Ron was waiting for her. “Can we talk?” He asked. 

She nodded and sat in the stool he gestured to. “What is it?”

“I’d like to change something in the painting.” He said. 

“Change what?” 

“I want you to remove the slip.” He said without expression.

“A nude? I don’t know….”

“No,” he assured her, “not a nude. Instead on the chemise, I want you to cradle a bedsheet to your chest. You would be covered, and nothing would show, but there would be more skin. I just wanted to know if you would be comfortable posing for me like this.”

“So, if I’m not nude then how would it work?” She asked. She didn’t want to deny Ron his art without knowing what he actually wanted. 

“The sheet would be draped across your lap and held to your chest, your legs and back would be exposed.” He told her. 

“I suppose, I can try and see what it like.” She answered. He nodded. 

“That’s all I ask.” He leaned forward and took her hand. “You must know that I would never portray you in any way that is disrespectful.” She smiled at his words. 

“Thank you Ron.” She whispered and leaned in kissing his cheek. 

Pansy left and throughout the night thought about what Ron had suggested. On a whim, she took a mirror and suspended it beside her bed. Stripping down she got into position and clutched a sheet to her chest, letting it drape across her lap. It didn’t look bad, but she had a feeling Ron would make it look lustful. 

Closing her eyes, she let herself sleep for the first time nude. The sheets against her skin felt remarkable. When she rose the next morning, she stretched and let the cool air wake her. It felt good to sleep without any clothes, and it actually made her feel sexy. She made her way to Ron’s studio with a smile on her face.


	4. chapter 4

  
Author's notes: posing  


* * *

Ron was waiting for her. She moved with an excitement he could see in her walk and had to smile as she climbed his stairs. “Hello.”

“Hello.” She said smiling. 

“Did you have a good morning?” He asked. She stopped in front of him. 

“Why do you ask?” She still had the smile.

“You have a euphoric expression, and a bit of a light step.” He told her, leaning on the railing and smiling back at her. She looked away and then back. “What is it?” He asked. 

“Well, last night I….” He leaned in and raised his eyebrows when she paused. “Last night I slept nude.” She admitted, with a slight blush. 

“You did?” She nodded. “So how do you feel now?” He asked. 

“Surprisingly feminine.” She said. Ron shared her laugh. 

“So should we see what the image looks like?” He asked. She nodded and they went into the studio.

Pansy emerged in the chemise, still a little nervous. She approached the platform and stilled when he felt Ron take her shoulders from behind. Sliding the this fabric down her arms, it fell to the floor. He turned her to face him, and Pansy felt her heartbeat race. She had been naked in front of men before but never to a man who looked at her as Ron did. They were looking at things they wanted to touch, feel and taste. Ron looked at her female form in an appreciation of nature. For the first time in her life she felt like the divine feminine, and she loved it. 

She eased on the platform into position. Ron took a length of fabric in red silk and pulled it across her lap. It barely covered her hips and it if lifted an inch would show the junction of black hair at her thighs. When she raised her hands, Ron settled it under her fingers, letting her ribcage show. 

She was showing far more skin then she had showed in her mirror last night but Ron looked very pleased. He adjusted her hair and as he liked, then looked at her. “Are you comfortable?” He asked. 

“Yes.” She said, in barely a whisper. Ron rushed back to the easel and this time worked for nearly three hours. Pansy held her place, while Ron painted. He changed brushes, and pallets and tools. His face was so intense and Pansy found herself turned on by his passion. As she looked at him with a longing, his eyes met hers and they held for a moment. 

Ron’s nostrils flared as he saw the desire in her eyes and he went frantic to capture it. This was the look he wanted. He got the image in coal quickly. He would add color at another day. He knew facial expressions were fleeting and he might not get this look again. Ron was driven. She had the perfect body. The graceful curve of her back was evident, the smooth and lean muscles in her legs, her shapely ankles, and elegance of her neck. He would have loved to paint her nude but not for this. 

When he saw her without the chemise his body ignited in passion. He wanted to bury himself in her right then and there. Ron had seen many bodies but Pansy was made for loving. He didn’t have to massage her, he knew a spell for sore muscles, his models needed it frequently. But when he saw Pansy’s body he couldn’t help it. He had to touch her. He still wanted to touch her again.

He captured her look, and the rest of her body, making correction when he needed. The canvas carried a black and white outline that would be ready for color and shading tomorrow. Ron approached her and held out a hand. To his vast enjoyment Pansy took his hand and stood, leaving the drape behind. Ron looked down to her toes and back up again. 

“You are truly lovely.” He whispered. 

“Thank you.” She said and walked nude through his studio to the screen. Ron’s eyes never left her form. Her gracefulness was a joy to watch. 

He stood in front of the easel, looking at the first stages of the painting. He could see the carnal need in her eyes and his cock hardened by the look he had drawn. Even her image made him crave her. 

“Oh my.” He looked at her standing beside him. Her eyes were wide. “Is that me?” She gave a shy smile.

“Yes it is. I told you Pansy, that you are beautiful and here is the proof.” He took her shoulders and brought her to stand in front of him. “Do you see how desirable you are?” His lips against her ear, his chest against her back, his warm hands on her shoulders, made Pansy want to strip down and offer her body to him. “Do you see what a marvel of femininity you are? This is what I wanted to bring to my art.”

“You are a talent beyond anything Ron. You could make any woman feel this way.” She said. Ron brought his hands around her waist and pulled her against his chest. 

“I can make women feel this way, but you make me desire you.” He cradled her body like a treasure. He was gentle with her, holding her with care. “You are meant to be worshiped.” He nuzzled her neck and released her, taking a step back. “I will be waiting for you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.” She said, leaving the studio.

 

Pansy arrived early the next day, but Ron was waiting. She walked in and went behind the screen. This time she came out not wearing s stitch. She locked eyes with Ron and walked to the platform, proud of her nakedness. Ron smiled at the newfound confidence. 

She was glorious in her splendor, absolutely gorgeous. She took her place on the platform and let Ron arrange the details as usual. This time she didn’t take her eyes from his as he worked. His words from yesterday, had stirred her in a way she didn’t know, but she was confused. 

Did Ron make all the women who posed for him feel this way? How many women like her felt this desire that she did? Did he seduce women with his art or was she special? She would hate to think that this attraction to her that he claimed he had would be gone when she left his studio for the final time. It was a sad thought and it showed in her face. 

She wasn’t aware of Ron approaching her, until he was kneeling beside her. “What is it?” He asked her. 

“Ron, I just had a thought. It’s nothing really.” She tried to convince him.

“A frown like that can’t be nothing.” He took her hand in his and brushed his thumb over her knuckles. “Tell me.”

“I was just wondering if you admire all the women that pose for you the way you say you admire me.” He watched her eyes. “It would hurt to know that this feeling will end when the portrait is complete.” She had a hard time admitting her fears, but she had to say it. 

“Pansy, I know it seems like this painting is making you feel things, but I don’t want you to think that what I feel it false.” He took both her hands. “I hope that when we are finished with this, you will give me the chance to see you as a man and not an artist.”

“Can you separate the man and the artist Ron?” She asked.

“I think you might be the one to show me how.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers gently.


	5. chapter 5

  
Author's notes: giving in  


* * *

Pansy gave herself over to his kiss, reaching out and cupping his face as his lips parted and their tongues met. His kiss was fabulous and sensual, but ended all too soon for her. They parted after a moment. 

Pansy resumed her position with a calm look on her face. It was enough for Ron, since he had obtained the look he wanted yesterday. He was adding color now, the color of her body. The red of the platform and sheets he would add later on his own, that way she didn’t have to stay in the positron if she didn’t need to.

He kept his eyes on her, memorizing the fluid lines of her body, making sure he got the right shade of her skin. She was flawless and he wanted to make sure the world knew she was flawless. She was watching him, that same look of longing in her eyes. It was driving him to thoughts of fornication, wild abandoned fornication. 

To be able to take her in his arms was a thought that ruled his mind from the first moment he saw her in that flimsy slip. To be able to taste her skin was a fantasy of his since the moment he oiled her sore muscles. He worked with a drive and urgency to capture the living perfection that posed for him. She said nothing, not one complaint, just breathed in and out as he immortalized her visage.

She gazed at him as he let the artist take over his mind, body and soul. To watch him work was a phenomenon to behold. His whole being was taken in by her pose and the need to paint her. She straightened her back slightly and immediately Ron saw the slight change in her position. 

She couldn’t help it. She let her hands drop, and the scrap of cloth fell to her lap. Ron’s brush fell to the ground in a clatter that echoed through the studio. He stepped out from behind the easel, and took a step forward. Pansy took the cloth and in a single swipe, tossed it to the floor. Standing, she held her head high and let Ron look at her. 

Nude and glorious, she waited for him, her smooth and shiny skin, her eyes locked with his. He approached the platform and looked up at her, his life sized statue that came to life for him. He knelt down on the step and raised his eyes to her, taking his hands and holding her curvy thighs. 

She drank in the image of his kneeling at her feet, paying homage to her form. The world would be teased with the wonders of what was behind the cloth that hid her, but today Ron would feast at the delights of her body. He reached around and held her ass in both hands, pulling her forward to bury his face in her neatly trimmed curls. He inhaled deeply, smelling her juices.

Pansy let her hands run through his hair as she watched him breath in the effects he had on her. He gripped her waist and brought her down to sit in front of him. She let her knees bend on either side of him, opening her legs to embrace his hips. 

Ron reached up and held her face gently leaning in to kiss her. His lips barely touched hers, but Pansy felt it. Lifting her arms she reached for his t shirt, and slipped her hands underneath, feeling his warm skin. He let out a small moan against her lips as she touched him, circling his waist. 

Ron dutifully lifted his arms up as she brought the worn and weathered shirt up and over his head, letting it fall to the floor. Pansy looked at his firm chest, running her hands flat along his ribs and up to this shoulders. Ron’s let his head roll back and closed his eyes as she explored. 

Pansy wrapped her arms around his waist and brought her chest against his, resting her cheek against his breastbone and squeezing him tightly. Ron circled her shoulders with one arm and caressed her back with the other. 

Taking her shoulders in his hands, he eased her on her back and let his hands slide down her body, easing over her breasts and hardened nipples. Pansy closed her eyes as he sculpted her stomach and hips, moving down her thighs. She did nothing but enjoy his hands as they opened her legs and hooked her thighs on his shoulders. 

He tongued her pussy, dipping in to feed off her juice, sending her nerves into wild frenzies. She reached up and held her hands against her chest. She clutched at his fingers as he flicked her clit with his tongue. He was remarkable, making her feel things she had long forgotten. Marcus had never paid this kind of attention to her. 

Ron lapped and sucked on her pussy, eagerly drinking the sweetest wine he had ever been offered. He couldn’t get enough, he buried his tongue as deeply as he could. He sucked her pleasure button, listening to her squeals of delight. This was the greatest joy to his ears, hearing a woman loose herself to the joys of his ministrations. 

Pansy let herself go, clutching his hands tightly to her chest and she felt herself being hurled over the precipice by Ron’s talents. 

She howled out as she released her essence on his tongue, which Ron enthusiastically lapped up, cleaning every inch of her. “You taste sweet.” He whispered against he pussy. She heard him, loud and clear, his voice sinking into her very soul with his words. 

She sat up again and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a fierce kiss. She tasted her own release on his lips, felt the passion of his own arousal against her thigh. 

While they kissed he frantically unfastened his belt and jeans, pushing them past his hips. Pansy reached down and wrapped both hands around his cock. Ron threw his head back and let out a hiss. Pansy kissed and sucked his neck while she stroked him gently. 

He was pure stone wrapped in velvet skin, and Pansy explored every inch of him. Reaching down she cradled his sac in her palm. Ron let out a groan and dropped his forehead on her shoulder. 

“Am I hurting you?” She asked, although she knew she wasn’t. 

“No,” he said, in a heated breath, “I’m fine.” He started thrusting into her hands. She rolled her thumb over his eye and ran the drop that leaked out down the underside of his shaft. Ron let out another groan and his arms tightened up. 

She released him and hugged his shoulders attacking his mouth with a savage need. Ron returned it and gripped her hips, pulling her forward as he slid inside her. Pansy let out a breathe as he filled her completely, burying himself to the hilt. 

Ron would never find words to describe the feeling of submerging himself inside such a welcoming wetness. “Oh woman…” he gasped out, “I have never felt such an embrace before.” Pansy let herself drown in his words. He was an artist, no plain words for this man. He spoke in words that drove themselves into Pansy’s soul. 

“Ron you feel unbelievable.” She whispered into his ear. “I love how you feel.” She couldn’t stop the words from escaping. 

Ron moved slow and easy, thrusting deeply. Pansy let herself fall back on the platform. Ron took her legs and raised them up to his chest, hugging them close and he moved inside her. 

Pansy gripped the blanket underneath her body as she was moved back and forth. Ron took her ankles in both hands firmly, holding them out to each side. Spread eagle and held open Pansy writhed and moaned under him. Ron looking intently at his lady. 

She was losing herself to the feelings he was giving her. Letting herself give into her baser needs. She never felt this way before, she didn’t have to act. There was no need to pretend. She could be just as she is. She could let out her desires and cravings.

She looked at Ron, and focused her gaze on his eyes. He slowed his thrusting when he saw her face. She was thinking of something, she wanted something, he could tell. 

She pushed on his shoulders and rolled away from him. He watched as she climbed up and got on all fours. She looked to her side at him. “I’ve never done it this way before.” She told him.

“You haven’t?” He asked shocked. “Most men love this position.” He said, while climbing up and moving behind her. 

“I guess not the men I’ve been…OH!!!!!!” She was silenced when Ron thrust deeply in a sharp movement.

“What was that?” He asked keeping a firm hold on her hips. 

“None of the men I’ve been …..AH!!!!” She was cut off again by another thrust.

“None of them wanted this then?” He asked staying imbedded deeply.

“NO!” She hollered out. “Where’s the gentle loving?!” She cried as he thrust again, and her body lurched forward.

“You want me to fuck like an animal, so I’m going to fuck like an animal.” With those words he let his body take over and began drilling into her with fervor that he had long kept under control. He released everything into Pansy, letting her feel the fire from his body. 

“YES, RON…..MORE….MORE……” He responded to her cries and leaned over her, reaching for her clit, rubbing it frantically. “AHHHHHH YYYESSS!!”

“That’s right my lovely lady, come on now, sing for me.” He murmured in her ear. “Let me hear you.”

“Ah ah ah ah ah ah oh gods Ron..aaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!” She thrust her ass back into him and let her head drop down as she climaxed hard. 

Ron held himself in check while she tightened down on his cock. The moment her orgasm subsided he flipped her over on her back, and slid back inside her. 

Driving his own body to release, he rode her hard and fast. She locked her legs around his waist and arched into him, still feeling the last waves of her peak. He crushed her lips in a hard kiss and yelled into her mouth as he came hard, spilling thick creamy cum into her. 

Pansy clung to him, feeling his body flexing hard as he came. His cock throbbed inside her until it had spewed every last drop. Ron dropped his weight on his elbows and panted over her. Pansy didn’t let go of him. She held him close, keeping her legs and arms around him. 

Ron planted small kisses all over her face. Cradling her head in his hands. They stayed where they were the rest of the afternoon, languishing on the platform.


	6. chapter 6

  
Author's notes: the unveiling  


* * *

Pansy returned home later that night. Ron told her that the painting was almost finished and she didn’t need to pose anymore. She did however returned to his house the next day, and they explored each others bodies, in every way possible. Learning what they liked and what drove them over the edge. 

Ron had arranged for the final unveiling a month later. He spent time making sure the finest detail wasn’t overlooked. He took great pains to perfect this last portrayal, not only because his lover was the subject, but because this sin was the most libidinous of all of them.

He worked on the painting every day for three weeks, beginning at dusk and stopping only when Pansy showed up in the evening. She was his relaxation and respite. He adored her in every way. She was just as inflamed by him as he was with her and she didn’t hold anything back. 

He found himself thinking of her constantly. She took up his every thought. There were many times when he tried to paint and his mind would go back to the heated loving they had in the shower, or the time they soaked in the tub together. He thought constantly of the time she let him cover her with fruit and ate it off. 

She explored everything with him and he didn’t want to give that up. He knew she thought this was just a fling that would end when the painting was unveiled, but Ron had other plans. He had never been with a partner like Pansy and women like her didn’t just walk into his life. Pansy was something special and he’d be a fool to let her leave his life. He asked her to come to his house after the party. They had to talk. 

 

Pansy arrived at the studio and was besieged by reporters asking questions. How did Ron find her? Did he ask her to pose right away? Was she nervous about what the painting would look like? Did she like the previous images in the series? 

Pansy also took part in posing for the photographers who wanted all seven girls together. They were all present at the final unveiling, in elegant gowns and supporting the artist they posed for. 

Ron himself circulated the room, answering questions himself and was photographed not only with the girls together, but with each lady next to her portrait.

The turnout was astonishing. Pansy recognized reporters from every newspaper and periodical. Every well known reporter was there, taking notes and speaking to everyone. Pansy had been cornered by more then she could count. 

At 8:30, the crowd moved to the curtain covered painting at the end of the line formed by it’s predecessors. Ron was standing inside the velvet rope and reached for Pansy, bringing her into the roped off section before her portrait. She didn’t know he would do that, but stood holding his hand as he spoke. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, I want to thank you all for attending this evening. This belief of the seven sins has been told many times and I’m so grateful that you have enjoyed my own interpretations. Miss Parkinson here was the lovely lady who posed for the final painting and I hope that she is as proud of it as I am.” Ron smiled at her and squeezed her hand when she returned it. As he leaned down and kissed her cheek, several camera flashes went off. Pansy knew it would be in the papers the next day, alongside the article. 

“This last sin, was the most satisfying to paint, not only because it symbolized the end of the series, but because I believe of any of these infamous emotions, this one is the one that doesn’t belong here in any way. Our desires for mates and partners don’t damn our souls, they liberate us. It is our way of showing our innermost yearnings and it is my belief that we should give in to it, not refuse it.” Pansy had to smile at his speech. She felt the same way, and was suddenly very proud to have been his muse.

“Without further ado, ladies and gentlemen,” Pansy moved aside as he raised his wand, “I give you Lust.” With a wave the curtain vanished and the painting was revealed. Pansy was in the position she had perfected over the course of their work. But what shocked her was the setting. 

Instead of the smooth lines of the duvet she had been sitting on, Ron had used the rumpled image that was caused by their first encounter. She looked as if she was welcoming her lover back to bed. Pansy was amazed. She saw more flashes go off and knew that her reaction was captured by the photographers. 

Applause sounded in the studio. “I hope you like it my dear.’ Ron whispered in her ear, holding her waist. 

‘Ron, it’s wonderful.” She told him, still not believing that the sexual woman she was seeing was actually her. She hugged his waist and rested her cheek against his chest, while more flashes went off. They increased as Ron tightened his hold and kissed the top of her head.

His attention was diverted by reporters asking questions. “Mr. Weasley, how did you find your model for this last painting?”

“We originally went to Hogwarts together but I found Miss Parkinson at Diagon Alley, having tea. I immediately saw the type of model I wanted and approached her.”

“Miss Parkinson, how did he broach the subject of this painting to you?”

“Ron said that my features and coloring were perfect with the last piece of a project he was working on.”

“Mr. Weasley, what features were you referring to?”

“I already had the idea for this type of red setting when it came to this final painting. Miss Parkinson, has pale skin and very dark hair. That coloring translates wonderfully in paints and work with any number of colors. She was different than any of the other models and its very unique. I saw Pansy and knew that the deep red would look fabulous with her.”

“Was the idea of a partial nude, or a simulated nude painting something you envisioned from the beginning?”

“I had originally posed Pansy in a simple, elegant chemise but decided that a suggested nude embodied lust more then anything.”

“Was the nude aspect a concern with you Miss Parkinson?”

“At first I was skeptical, but Ron assured me that it would be in good taste. When I saw what image he had in mind I was astonished. I had seen the painting in it’s various stages, but I have to admit, this is quite amazing” She said looking back at her visage. “I’m still trying to convince myself that it’s me up there.”

The evening passed by pleasantly and Ron was once again celebrated as an artist. He stayed with her the whole night and invited her to his house after the gala had ended.

She reclined on the loveseat in front of Ron’s fire. It was approaching one in the morning, but she was still on a high from the unveiling. “You did wonderfully.” Ron said sitting beside her and handing her a flute of champagne. 

“Well, it was your night, I just tried to support you. You were in your element.” She nestled into his arm. “Thank you for letting me be a part of it.”

“Thank you for posing.” He said putting aside his empty glass. “You know Pansy, this doesn’t have to end, what we have between us.”

“What happens when you meet your next muse?” She asked, avoiding his eyes. Ron took the glass from her hands and set it with his own, then he lifted her into his lap facing him and held her firmly but the waist.

“Do you think I’m intimate with every women who poses for me?” He asked. “There were six ladies before you, as you know, one of them being my sister and another close enough.”

“I know Ron, what I mean is what happens when you have to paint another sexual painting. Who will inspire you then? I’d be a fool to assume this would end up as something more.” 

“Pansy, I have never become involved with a woman while working on a painting. I have found many women attractive, I have seen beautiful women and wanted to put them in my art, but I never become involved with them. The women I’ve been involved with have been women I met in other ways. Pansy, do you want this to end?”

“No, Ron, I don’t.” He reached up and rested her hands on his shoulders. “I also don’t want to give in to foolish fantasies.”

“Is this foolish, how we feel about each other?” He asked, caressing her hips.

“Ron, what we experience together is beyond words.”

“What about me, how do you feel about me?” He asked. “And be honest, I want to hear everything.”

“I don’t know if I can classify what I feel in words Ron. I know the attraction I feel to you is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before, and to be completely honest it’s a bit frightening.” Ron said nothing, he just let her speak. “Ron, I wouldn’t call what I feel love, I think it’s far too soon for that.” He nodded in understanding. “I do know that I enjoy spending time with you, regardless of what we do.” He smiled at her. “I treasure our intimacy, and I get excited thinking about the next time we see each other. When I think of your touch, my body reacts.” He gripped her hips tighter.

“I know that feeling well. I have it too.” He told her, pulling her closer. “But I feel something stronger. I feel the need to be around you.” Her look took on a thoughtful expression. “I don’t want to end what we have. We have something so few people can admit to. I’m hoping that I have found someone who I can share my life with, and to end it would be wrong. We may not be able to say we love each other, but we can say that as lovers we match each other. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, I can agree with that. I have never connected with anyone physically like this before.” She said bringing up one hand to stroke his hair. Ron took her other hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. 

“Neither have I.” He kissed her wrist again, this time opening her lips against her skin. “I admit….” he kissed her arm again, higher, “it’s something I am…” he kissed the inside of her elbow, “reluctant to end.” He kissed his way up her arm to her shoulder. “Do you agree?” He moved his open lips along her collarbone. 

“Yes.” She let her head drop to the side as his lips moved up her neck. “I don’t want to give this up either, but we should be adult about…..” He took her earlobe in his lips, giving her a nibble.

“We are being adult about this.” He whispered against her ear. “We are discussing this like mature adults.” He cradled her head in his palm and kissed along her jaw. “Mature adults who want to continue a most pleasurable liaison.” He took her lips in his and kissed her deeply, caressing the back of her neck and letting his other arm coast around her waist. 

She released his lips and let her head fall to the other side as he tortured her neck again. “Say you want to continue this Pansy.” He took her earlobe in his mouth and let it slide out. “Neither one of us want to stop.” His lips slid along her neck and down to her shoulder. 

“What happens when you feel inspire by someone else?” She asked. He lifted his head and held her closely.

“What happens when you desire someone else Pansy?” He asked her. He took in her silent expression. “Nobody can predict the future, regardless of what a bangled and scarved neurotic says.” Pansy had to laugh. It was a lewd but accurate description of Trelawney. “We have the moment Pansy,” he said taking her face in his hands, “if we can build something beautiful from this we should try.” 

“It’s frightening to get involved.” She whispered. It was the first time she had admitted to being afraid of a relationship. 

“Yes it is,” he whispered, bring her face closer to his, “but it’s a much worse feeling to be alone.” He said and pulled her into a hungry kiss. 

Pansy let herself be taken in by his lips. “Maybe we can see how it works for a few months.” She said as he slid her dress down to waist, baring her breasts to his view. 

“We have been trying it,” he took her breasts in his hands, “the entire time, the portrait was being painted,” he leaned down and took a nipple in his mouth, “we’ve been testing each other,” he moved to the other nipple, feeling both globes in his palms, “seeing how we react physically.” He took her in another kiss.

She eased he jacket off and started on the buttons of his shirt. “Reacting is one thing, anyone can react.” She said pulling his shirt off. “Anyone can do this.” She let her hands caress his form. 

“But not everyone has what we have.” He buried his hand in her hair and pulled her into a tempestuous kiss, snogging her like a fourth year. “We have something unique.” He lifted her up and eased her onto the floor in front of the fire. The fire lit up her face in a golden glow, and Ron was mesmerized by her beauty. “What we have can be so much more.” He kissed her gently, reaching down and lifting her dress to her waist. He hand froze. “No knickers Pansy?” He lifted an eyebrow at her. 

“I don’t wear them with gowns, you can see the line if it’s a tight dress.” She explained. 

He nodded. “That makes sense.” He slid a finger inside her. “Now can you make sense of the wetness my darling?” She said nothing. “I think you’d like to continue as much as I do.” He reached for his trousers and ripped open the fastening, moving them only enough to free his cock. “Don’t you, Pansy?” He thrust into her deeply, moving in and out. 

“Oh Ron….” She clutched his back and dropped her knees wider.

“Don’t you Pansy?” He leaned down kissing her lips, her eyes, her cheeks. “Don’t you want to see what we can create?” He ground his body against hers, driving her into the floor. “Let’s see where we can go from here.” 

“Ron…..I ….can’t think ….like this….” She gasped out and held onto him. 

“Don’t give this up.” He held her hands above her head, weaving his fingers with hers. “Don’t take away what we both want.” He smothered her with kisses. Pansy returned them with intensity. 

Ron rolled over, bringing her above him. She clutched his shoulders as she began rolling her pelvis, taking him deep. He wrapped his arms around her back and squeezed the breathe from her body. 

“Don’t leave me Pansy.” She buried her face in his neck and moved her hips faster, riding him with a thirst she felt to her bones. “We have something that shouldn’t die.” She felt her body approaching it’s release and moved faster, and faster. Ron was sliding about under her as she took her pleasure with him. “Say you will stay. Say yes.”

“AH….AH….AH……RON…..” She panted out with each thrust. She sank her teeth into his neck and gnawed the tough flesh, drawing it into her mouth and sucking the life out through his pores. 

Ron was positive she was marking him, but he didn’t care. If anything he loved it. “Say yes.” He whispered again. 

“YES…YES…YES…YESSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!” She cried out and she arched her back hard and clamped down on his cock. Ron lifted his hips and thrust hard, emptying himself while she milked him of his own release.

She had dropped her weight on his body, spent. He held her close, caressing her back, her ass, her hair, her arms. He lifted a limp hand and kissed her fingers one by one. 

“Yes.” He whispered and kissed her palm.

“Yes.” She said onto his neck. She hoped she had made the right decision.

The End


End file.
